its not and i dont do you remember? me. even? in time without striving without trying brilliant. you say but does it sparkle? does it? collapse. in about within without you like george harrison on a watershed roundabout, navy beans and a hackneyed sponge junk. is it? over. but so much much but i knew c'est compliqué... only? tell me.
I had a lot of fun last night :o) So is this one in the repertoire of receipt paper poems? Hope you are enjoying the rest of your Sunday… and wishing you a wonderful Monday (as wonderful as they can be!)
I stumbled upon your journal quite by random, and it intrigued me, especially your poetry. :) Someone once said, “Every moment lived and every event experienced plants a seed in one’s soul.” You never know who your words might touch or change. This night you have touched me. I just wanted you to know that.
~Just Passing Through
How many unwatered seeds must lie dormant in our souls, then, given the number of moments we are conscious of and act upon… I’ve always maintained that the subconscious makes up the greater part of who we are, the greater mass of glittering seeds.
It makes me happy to know that the poetry spoke to you. I’m taking note of this moment as well.